The Dark-Hunters (242 page)

Actually, he was all dead. But still breathing. The moonlight cast shadows over the handsome planes of his face and showed the tears in his clothing where he was bleeding. If he could bleed to death, she’d hold a compress to his chest wound, but since he couldn’t she stayed put.

“How did you die?” she whispered. Kyrian didn’t know, and in all her readings about ancient Rome and Greece, Valerius’s name had seldom been mentioned. For all the brutality that Kyrian accused him of, Valerius Magnus wasn’t much more than a footnote in history.

“Hey, Tab, you in here?”

She breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of Nick’s deep Cajun drawl. Thank goodness he only lived three blocks away and knew how to hustle in a jam. “I’m over here.”

Dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a short-sleeved blue shirt, Nick quickly joined her, then cursed the instant he saw who was lying on the ground.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he snarled after she asked him to help her get Valerius up. “I wouldn’t throw piss on that man if he were on fire.”

“Nick!” Tabitha said, shocked at his rancor. Normally Nick was the most laid-back of men. “That was uncalled-for.”

“Oh, yeah, right. I notice you didn’t call Kyrian for this. Why is that, Tabitha? ’Cause he’d kill you both?”

She stamped down her own temper, which would only set his off more if she started telling him how juvenile he was behaving. “C’mon, Nick. Don’t be like that. I don’t want to help him, either, but Ash won’t answer the phone and no one else seems to like him.”

“Damn straight. Everyone, but you, has a brain. Let him rot on the street.”

She stood up and faced him with her hands on her hips. “Fine. You explain to Ash why one of his Hunters was killed, then. You deal with his anger. I’m out of it.”

Nick narrowed his eyes on her. “You really suck, Tabby. Why didn’t you call Eric for this?”

“Because it’s awkward to ask your ex—who is happily married to someone else—for favors, okay? I somehow thought my friend
Nick
wouldn’t hassle me over this, but I can see now that I was wrong.”

He gave an exaggerated wince at that. “I really hate this man, Tabitha. I’ve known Kyrian too long and owe him too much to render aid to the man whose grandfather crucified him.”

“And we are not responsible for the actions of our family members, are we, Nick?”

His jaw ticced at that.

Nick’s father had been a convicted murderer who had died in a prison riot. It was well known by everyone that the man was a repeat felon who had spent the whole of Nick’s youth in and out of jail for all sorts of unsavory crimes. Nick himself had been well on his way to repeating his father’s fate when Kyrian had stepped in and saved him.

“That’s low, Tab,
real
low.”

“But it’s true. Now, please, forget that he’s a dickhead and help me get him home, okay?”

Nick growled at her before he came near them. “Do you know where he lives?”

“No, do you?”

“Somewhere over in the Garden District.” Nick pulled out his phone and dialed a number. After a minute, he cursed. “Otto, answer the phone.” He cursed again, then hung up and glared at her. “You know it’s bad when the guy’s own Squire won’t answer to save him.”

“Maybe Otto’s busy.”

“Maybe Otto’s psychic.”

“Nick…”

Nick put his phone in his pocket, then bent over, tossed Valerius over his shoulder, and headed out of the courtyard to where his Jaguar was parked on the street. He dumped Valerius unceremoniously into the passenger seat.

“Watch his head, Nick!” she snapped as Nick banged it against the car.

“Not like I could kill him or anything. What happened to him, anyway?”

“I stabbed him.”

Nick blinked, then burst out laughing. “I knew I liked you for a reason. Oh man, I can’t wait to tell Kyrian. He’ll laugh his ass off.”

“Yeah, well, in the meantime, take Valerius back to my place and give me Otto’s number so that I can keep trying to call him.”

“And you want to tell me how I’m going to get him to your place since Bourbon Street is closed off to traffic after dark?”

She gave him a droll stare.

He growled at her. “Fine, but you owe me big-time.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get cracking, Squire.”

He mumbled something under his breath that she was sure was less than complimentary before he walked to the other side of his car and got in.

Since his car was a two-seater, Tabitha headed out on foot to rendezvous with him at her store. As she walked into the crowd on Bourbon Street, she felt something evil brush up against her psychically.

Spinning around, she scanned the crowd, but didn’t see anything.

Still, she felt it deep inside.

“Something wicked this way comes…” She breathed the title of her favorite Ray Bradbury book.

And something inside told her it was far more evil than anything she had faced before.

Chapter 2

Valerius came awake slowly to the sound of someone humming nearby.

Humming?

He blinked open his eyes expecting to find himself in his own bed in his own house. Instead, he was on a queen-size antique tester bed with an ornate wooden canopy that was padded in burgundy velvet.

The voice he heard was coming from a rocking chair on his left. He turned his head and was floored by what he found.

It was …

Well, at first glance it looked like a very large woman. She had long blond hair and was wearing a short-sleeved, pink furry sweater and a pair of khaki pants. Only the “woman” had shoulders every bit as broad as Valerius did and a pronounced Adam’s apple.

She sat in the chair, flipping through the fall issue of
Vogue
with glossy, blood-red fingernails that could double for claws. She looked up and paused in her humming.

“Oh! You’re awake!” she said excitedly, getting up immediately and fluttering around his bed. She awkwardly grabbed what appeared to be a walkie-talkie from the nightstand and pressed the button while making sure she didn’t break a nail. “Tabby, Mr. Sexy is awake.”

“Okay, Marla, thanks.”

Valerius had a faint memory of that voice, but it wasn’t clear as he tried to remember what had happened to him. “Where am I?” he asked.

“Hell” seemed the most apropos answer. But the pain in his body and the dimmed room that was a peculiar mixture of modern and antique said that not even hell would be this bad or tacky.

“Don’t move, sweetie,” the unknown woman said as she continued to gesture and hover around the bed. “Tabby will be right here. She said that I wasn’t to let you go anywhere at all. So don’t.”

Before he could ask who Tabby was, another woman burst into the room.

She too was tall. But unlike the first one, she was slender, almost waif-like, except that her body was well defined, as if she lifted weights. Her long auburn hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she had a vicious scar over her left cheekbone.

Valerius froze at the sight of the warrior he’d seen the night before. Memories flooded him. Including the one where she had stabbed him straight in the chest—which was helped by the fact that she still held a large butcher knife in her right hand.

“You!” he accused, pushing himself to the furthest edge of the bed.

The woman visibly cringed before she turned to the first one and urged her toward the door. “Thanks, Marla, I appreciate your watching over him.”

“Oh, anytime, hon. You just ring-a-ding if you need anything.”

“I will.” She pushed the larger woman out the door and slammed it shut. “Hi,” she said to Valerius.

He stared at the knife in her hand, then looked down at the healing wound on his chest. “What? Are you back to finish me off?”

She frowned at him. “Wha…?” Then her gaze went to the knife in her hand. “Oh, this. No, last night was a complete accident.”

Tabitha placed the knife on the dresser, then turned to face him. She had to admit that Valerius looked extremely handsome in her bed. His long black hair was down, and draped around his face. His features were perfectly chiseled as if by some master artist. And that body of his …

Really, no man should look
that
yummy.

It was why she’d spent the night in her downstairs office and why she’d sent Marla up to watch after him first thing this morning.

Asleep he’d been more of a temptation than she wanted. He’d looked relaxed and gentle.

Inviting.

Awake he looked dangerous.

And still inviting.

She would give the goddess credit, Artemis had exquisite taste in men; and to Tabitha’s knowledge, and according to Amanda’s words, there was no such thing as an ugly Dark-Hunter.

She couldn’t really fault the goddess for that. If you had to pick men for your own personal army, what woman wouldn’t pick the tallest and best-looking of the bunch?

It also explained why Acheron was their leader.

Yes, it was good to be a goddess. Tabitha couldn’t imagine how great it would be to command all that delectable testosterone.

And Valerius was prime DH material as he sat with one divinely carved arm braced on her mattress while the rest of him was all but bare to her sight. He looked like some coiled, wild beast ready to strike.

But he was confused. She felt his emotions reaching out to her. He was also angry but she wasn’t sure why.

“You’re safe here,” she said, stepping near the bed. “I know what you are and I made sure all the windows are covered.”

“Who are you?” he asked in a suspicious tone.

“Tabitha Devereaux,” she said.

“Are you a Squire?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know—”

“I’m a friend of Acheron’s.”

His anger snapped at that. “You’re lying.” He stood up suddenly, then hissed as he realized he was completely naked.

Tabitha bit her lip to keep from moaning at the sight of all that luscious skin bared. She had to give the Dark-Hunters credit, they were all incredibly well built.

Valerius grabbed the sheet from her bed and covered himself. “Where are my clothes?” he asked in the most disdainful voice she’d ever heard.

No wonder Nick and the others had a hard time with him. Arrogance and supreme superiority bled from every molecule of that masculine body. It was obvious Valerius was a man used to giving orders, which made sense since she knew he had once been a Roman general.

Unfortunately, Tabitha wasn’t used to following anyone’s orders, especially not a man’s.

“Keep your shirt on,” she said with a laugh at her bad joke. “Your clothes are at the laundry. They’ll deliver them as soon as they’re ready.”

“And in the meantime?”

“Looks like you’re naked.”

His jaw worked as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I beg your pardon?”

“Beg all you want, you’re still going to be naked.” Tabitha paused at the wicked image in her mind. “Come to think of it, a gorgeous, begging, naked man … that’s the stuff of fantasies. Begging won’t get you your clothes, but it could get you something else.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him.

His fist tightened on the sheet he held around his waist. She could sense that he was both offended and yet oddly amused by her.

She cocked her head at him. “You know, you are Roman. You could just make a toga out of the bedsheet.”

Valerius stood there feeling a strange urge to sputter. Had he been lowborn, he might actually have done that.

This had to be the strangest woman ever born.

“How do you know I’m Roman?”

“I told you, I know Ash and all the rest of you night dwellers.” She gave him a playful look. “C’mon, make a toga for me. I tried to make one in college and ended up with it falling off in the middle of the party. Thank God my roommate was still sober enough to scoop it up and wrap it around me before the frat boys pounced.”

Behind him, he heard a cuckoo clock chime. Valerius turned to see the time, then scowled as he realized the “bird” had a red mohawk.

It also had an eyepatch.

“Ain’t it a hoot?” Tabitha asked. “I picked it up in Switzerland when I spent a year there studying.”

“Fascinating,” he said coldly. “Now if you’ll leave me, I shall—”

“Whoa, wait a sec, bud. I ain’t your servant and you don’t take that tone with me. Capisce?”

“Saeva scaeva,”
Valerius muttered under his breath.

“Saeve puer,”
she shot back.

Valerius actually gaped at her. “Did you just insult me in Latin?”

“You insulted me first. Not that I’m particularly insulted by being called a rampant she-devil. It’s kind of flattering, but still, I’m not the kind of person to take an insult in silence.”

In spite of himself, he was impressed. It had been a long time indeed since he’d met a female who knew his native tongue. Of course, he didn’t like being called an oafish boy, but there was something to be said for a woman who possessed such intelligence.

And it had been an eternity since he was around someone who didn’t openly disdain him. She wasn’t biting in her retorts. Rather she was sparring with him like a champion debater who took none of this to heart.

How unusual …

How frighteningly refreshing.

Suddenly, the theme song to
The Twilight Zone
chimed through the house.

“What is that?” he asked trepidatiously. Maybe he had actually walked into Rod Serling’s domain.

“Doorbell. It’s probably your clothes being delivered.”

“Tabby!” Marla shouted from somewhere outside the bedroom. “It’s Ben with your stuff.”

Valerius stiffened at the crass behavior. “Does he always scream like that?”

“Hey, now,” Tabitha said sternly. “Marla is one of my dearest friends on this earth and if you insult her or keep calling her a he, I’ll stake your butt somewhere where it’ll hurt a lot more than your chest.” She dropped her gaze meaningfully to his groin.

Valerius widened his eyes at her threat. What kind of woman said such a thing to a man?

Before he could speak, she left the room.

Stunned, he wasn’t sure what to do. What to think. He went to the dresser where she’d left her knife. Next to it was his wallet, keys, and phone.